Lykalae

I ran. My heart was pounding in my chest at a hundred miles per hour. Every single muscle in my body was painful; my whole body was screaming for me to stop. But still I ran, the wind, whipping against my face, my feet tapping on the paved road of the silent city. I ran for my life. It was already the middle of autumn, and I was wearing only a pair of plain black trousers and a white top that I had taken from a deserted store but they were drenched in sweat. I ran, and it was following. I was tiring, I had run all night, but for nothing I would have slowed down. I couldn't see it, but I knew it was there. A few more minutes and it would catch